Fairytale Ending
by Penmora Zenith
Summary: Christine's childhood was filled with stories and fairytales. Now that she is older and married to Erik, does her story have a happy ending?


_I decided to rework this because I was tired when I initially wrote it, and therefore I wanted to add to it. By the way, it is rated for a lot of sex, so beware those who do not like that kind of stuff... I hope you enjoy this the second time around._

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Thank you to my beta Cymbidium who was kind enough to review this short story. Gerardphantomhot, I totally wrote this with you in mind. Thank you all for reading._**_

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Fairytale Ending_**

_After I kissed Erik, he ordered me to leave with my fiancé. He felt that my kiss was redemption, the key that unlocked the chains by which I would have been imprisoned. I sloshed through the cloudy water toward the portcullis where Raoul was bound and feverishly released him from the ropes, hugging him when he was finally freed. I then fled with Raoul as he rowed the gondola away from my scarred Angel, but not before I left my engagement ring with Erik as a memento for him to remember me by. Erik took it from my outstretched fingers, marveling at how it still glimmered by the faint glow of the candles, and with the tears glistening on his cheeks, quietly murmured, "I love you." I was too stupid a girl then to realize my error in judgment, to think that fairytales do exist and that my fair-haired prince and I would live happily ever after. _

_Within a few years, I left Raoul to pursue Erik once more. You see, Raoul was abusive and beat me almost on a daily basis. When I was not physically struck, he belittled and berated me with harsh words and insults, almost to the point where they were as damaging as the black and blue marks that never seemed to fully heal. He was angry that I could not produce a son for him, though he would not attribute my barrenness to his violence. He began to torture me by inviting unscrupulous women into our home, sometimes two at a time. He would say that his chances for a successful male heir were significantly increased by the number of women he took. "Even if my son is a bastard, I can still pass him off as my heir!" I was finally so tired of the manipulation, of the pain and misery, that when he was passed out from the brandy and sex I snuck from the house in pursuit of my angel._

_I found my Erik, my wonderful savior, and he truly was an angel for he allowed me back into his home and his life. He is not as docile or affectionate as he once was due to the brutal nature in which he was beaten by the opera mob, but regardless I am remarkably blessed now to have him as my husband and the father of my precious son._

* * *

Christine hated the lies that were forced into her head.

"Mama, tell me the story of how you and papa met! It's my favorite, please tell me!"

"Quiet, Sebastian, your father doesn't like you calling him _'papa'_ You must remember to address him as Erik or Sir like the good little boy that you are," she replied wearily. She wiped her soapy hands on her threadbare apron, pausing momentarily before shaking her head and proceeding to wash the supper dishes.

"But that's my favorite bedtime story," her son whined.

"Sebastian, you are nearly five years old. You must stop whining like a baby and act like a big boy. Erik hates to see you grumpy and surly. Now help Mama clear the dishes and then I will tell you a story."

"The one of you and Erik?" he asked hopefully.

Christine smiled at the childlike glimmer of hope in her son's brown eyes, a hope that she wished she still possessed. She hated lying to her only child, and it appeared that her son would grow to know nothing different. "Not tonight, sweetheart. I will tell you the one about the little boy in Sweden who found a magical red scarf."

After Christine tucked Sebastian into bed, she found herself hardly able to make it to her own bedroom without collapsing from fatigue. She found Erik snoring softly, still fully clothed, and lying atop the covers. She padded silently into the room and cautiously opened the armoire doors, careful not to disturb her troubled husband. She untied the cotton apron that she'd forgotten she was wearing and hastily removed her pale green wool dress. She longed for the pretty silk fabrics from the dresses and costumes she used to wear as a dancer, but Erik did not seem to want to spend money on nice dresses as he only cared about removing them. Changing into a plain sleeping gown, she extinguished the candle on the side of the bed and gently slipped between the sheets, seemingly unnoticed by her unconscious husband.

Her thoughts troubled her before she slept, as they did every night. She recalled the days when she and Erik were first married, blissful and content in each other's arms. She missed Raoul, her dear childhood friend, though when she became Erik's wife, she dismissed such thoughts from her as they could be construed as adultery, in his eyes. Their life together had begun so passionately, and it was only a short time before their intense desire had created a child.

* * *

"_Christine, we cannot keep this child, it would ruin things!" he had screamed at her._

"_But, Erik, it is a tribute to our love for one another. We can raise this baby and any others that come along," she replied lovingly as she took his arm._

"_Others?" he shouted, flinging her away from him. "It is bad enough that this one dwells within you, we cannot have you talk of making another!"_

"_Of _me_ making another? I believe this child is a joint union, and with numerous times we made love it is little wonder that we are expecting a baby."_

"_We simply cannot have this child be born and grow up. This is the end of the discussion," he stated forcefully as had stormed from the room._

_It was only a few days later that Christine began to taste a metallic substance in her food, and within a few hours of ingestion, she began to bleed below the waist. She was not so stupid as to think that Erik was innocent of poisoning her, and playing the perfectly naïve spouse, he ordered her to rest in bed for a week. Needless to say the child that she had so longed for was lost._

_But her husband's sexual appetite only seemed to increase after that, though it hardly seemed possible. He would come to her repeatedly each day, seemingly obsessed with copulation, and she began to tire of both the act as well as her husband. Another child was conceived and she longed to keep this one a secret for as long as possible, but clever cunning Erik must have known the symptoms of a woman with child, vomiting, tenderness, fatigue, and issued her more medicine. This was the repetitive cycle of what her life had become within the last seven years._

* * *

Christine was just on the verge of sleep when Erik's stern voice roused her from the world she dreamt of each night.

"I heard you tell your son that story of you and your lover," he stated coolly.

"He is your son as well, and yes, I did tell him _that story_. I can't stand that you have me lie to him to make yourself look better, like you were the hero in the situation," she spat bitterly.

"I am the hero," was his dark reply.

"No you're not, you're the villain! For ten years you brainwashed an innocent grieving little girl into believing that you were an angel sent from her dead father! Then, when she finally grew up and realized that you were nothing but a predator, you kidnapped her and murdered her fiancé!"

Erik sighed in frustration and turned to his side to face his wife. "I did no such thing, Christine, you are always exaggerating the situation. I was your savior, your guiding light that shielded your innocence and purity in a cruel world. You loved me then, and that is why you remain here today."

"I remain here for the sake of my son. I loved you initially, but I was afraid of you. All those years you reinforced the belief that I could not survive on my own, that I needed a man to protect me and care for me, and now that I am smart enough to see past your lies, I have a son to look after."

"Ahhh, yes, a son. Don't you remember that night, Christine, when he was conceived?" Erik did not see it, but Christine shuddered, though she remembered that that night was not entirely unpleasant. "We tried it many ways on that eve, my love."

_

* * *

Somehow she doubted she would ever forget. Erik had seemed different that night, as though she had caught a glimmer of the man that she knew before this wickedness. They had shared a wonderful dinner that they had cooked together and being in good spirits, Christine chose to join Erik in music that night. Their passions evolved from the song and they soon found themselves in the midst of ecstasy, half naked and carnally entwined, with Erik sitting on the piano bench and Christine straddling his lap. Their sudden spark of desire was hardly extinguished as they boldly savored each other's bodies in scandalous locations and positions until much later in the night when they fell asleep in their large canopied bed. "Erik never complained about the squeaking of his carved mahogany desk after that night," she recalled with a smile._

_But three weeks later when her courses did not come and her breasts ached familiarly, she pleaded with Erik to let her keep this child._

"_Please, Erik, my master and Angel, let me allow this child to live. I shall love this baby and raise him or her to be a perfect child and a lover of music as we both are! I am so desperately lonely and I will do anything if you will only allow this one to live!" she had sobbed wildly._

"_Christine, despite my harsh words and actions I cannot bear to see you so miserable. I will grant you this one wish, but do not expect me to be such a loving and compassionate father. I want this child to respect me and to obey my commands when given, is that understood?"_

* * *

He began to laugh to himself as he recalled that night and stroked his member as it became hard. He turned to his wife, eager for her to ease his frustrations, but she hit him with her small fist. "Of course you don't want my pleasure, Christine, I am not your lost lover!"

"He is dead because of you, how dare you scorn his memory! I live as your wife, let you take my body every night, but grant me the happiness of my memories with him!" she shouted.

"But it was an unfortunate accident, my love, he slipped into a water-filled crevice and drowned. It was sad for you, but very convenient for me!" Christine felt the absence of his weight and heard him remove his clothes in the dark. She did not hear the rustle of him putting on his robe or sleeping clothes, so to her dismay she realized that sleep would not come as soon as she liked.

"Erik, when did you become so cruel? You used to be such a wonderful man, and now six years later, you are a vile snake, a…a…."

"Oh yes, say it, Christine," he breathed as he parted her nightgown and shifted on top of her.

"A monster!" His smile of triumph was lost in the darkness as he surged forward into her body, disregarding both her emotional state and her considerable absence of desire. She hardly ever wanted sex from Erik anymore, but she found that if she at least gave a half hearted attempt at pleasing him, it would save both her and her son from misery. It was a hard-learned lesson, and though he never physically beat them, his temper and verbal abuse were intolerable.

Erik emitted an appreciative groan as he rocked his body with Christine's. He laid his full weight on her, pressing hard, bruising kisses on her lips and sucking the skin on her neck so harshly that it pinched. Erik misinterpreted her gasps of breath from her restricted lungs as indications of pleasure and began his sick game of male domination and vulgar sexual language.

"Oh Christine, it appears that your perpetual frigidness has thawed!" he laughed hoarsely.

"God, please…." she pleaded to her Savior in an attempt that he would end this rough lovemaking soon.

"God, that's right, I am your God. Worship me, Christine," he whispered amorously as he pressed an intense kiss to her lips. She moaned out of surprise at the sudden contact and meekly returned the kiss as his movements changed from short hard thrusts to a gentle rolling of his hips to prolong his release. She adjusted her body so that she might have better airflow, and the man above her arched his back in pleasure. "Yes, oh yes, move your body like that!"

The bed was banging loudly against the wall, and Christine knew that she would have to find an explanation for an inquisitive child in the morning. Erik changed motions again, resuming his vigorous thrusts as he lifted her legs high into the air to allow deeper penetration. He emitted a choked cry of satisfaction and Christine could feel pain as he slid still further within her exhausted body as their breaths both became shallower. With her eyes having adjusted to the darkness, she could now clearly see Erik's contorted unmasked face and the beats of sweat that were forming on his brow. His thick dark hair, what she once found attractive, hung in thick strands in his face, partially obscuring his squinting eyes. He tossed his head to the side to remove it from his view and positioned his hands so that one was gripping the headboard for greater advantage, and the other moved upward from her thigh to clamp down hard upon her right breast. She shrieked in pain but her husband silenced her with another hard kiss.

After a short while, Christine was grateful to feel his body tense, indicating that his climax was coming upon him. He gripped the bed frame tighter as he violently jerked hard into his wife one, two, three times more before pouring his semen forth. He continued to hover above her, eager for another round of sex, but knew that it would take some time for his body to renew its strength. Erik removed himself from her sleek body and rolled onto his side, facing away from her.

"Erik?" Christine timidly asked. "Can we have another baby?" _"He must think that I am crazy,"_ she thought to herself. _"He understands nothing about anyone but himself. He never even wanted Sebastian because babies take up so much time and energy from the mother."_

"No, Christine. Sebastian is finally growing up and is less dependent on you as he was before. You have him and me, so go to sleep."

"I am already with child," she confessed miserably.

"_Again_! Well take your medicine and be rid of it."

"But I want a little girl." She could tell that he was starting to become agitated.

"You are still so like a little girl, darling," he said with too much sweetness. "That is what makes you so special. Another little girl would ruin it."

Christine wanted to cry. She had planned to go as long as possible without telling Erik of her pregnancy, but she thought perhaps in the afterglow of sex he would be more likely to concede. Now her cover was blown and he would poison the child out of her if she did not. She found that she had grown hateful and resentful of the men who were and had been most important in her life: her father for dying and making her an orphan, Raoul for his false hope and chivalry, Erik for his prison and manipulation, and even poor little Sebastian as her dependent. She had wanted to kill herself many times, but it was always either her faith or the ridiculous notion that she could change Erik and make him realize his horrible actions. She thought that by maybe making Erik a father, he would finally have someone to love him unconditionally and he could share a paternal bond that he had never had. However, even after he allowed her this one pregnancy he was cold and uncaring towards the child. Sebastian could not even address him as his father! Erik saw children as an added burden both emotionally and financially, and more importantly, they took away time from his precious Christine.

"Stop thinking and just go to sleep, Christine!" _"Apparently he is not in the mood for another round,"_ she thought bitterly, but with great relief. She only wished that possessed the courage to risk the traps hidden around the lair and escape with Sebastian and the new baby. It was apparent that the one glimpse of Erik that she had caught on the night of their son's conception was the last straggling aspect of the man she had come to know, who she had betrayed her lover for and by that had unwittingly killed. She lay there, listening to the contented soft snores of her husband, her hands draped protectively over her abdomen, wishing that somehow she would gather up the strength to leave.


End file.
